Once upon an Eternity
by LittleGlower
Summary: She had nothing left now. This was the end...until he showed her a new beginning. My version of how Carlisle and Esme might have met. Pls R&R! My first fanfic, so gentle, but honest:A/U
1. Chapter 1

**Ok, so this is my first story, and I hope you like it =)**

Disclaimer: I own nothing *sniff-sniff*

They gathered around her, eyes open wide. Whether it was because of her extraordinary stories, or her even more amazing beauty, was hard to tell. Her heart-shaped face, its expression soft, looked lovingly down at the young children that had accumulated themselves in front of her feet.

"Well", she said, brushing back her caramel colored hair, "our story begins long, long ago, in a place far away, but that is irrelevant. We must cast our attention on a young woman, barely twenty-four, wandering among the many stalls and small shops lining the long, wide street. She would stop occasionally and look about her, as if she was afraid of being followed…"

Esme POV

_If he catches me, I'm done for, _I thought fearfully. I just hadn't been able to contain myself. I'd had to leave. He was so horrible. Only yesterday I had managed to anger him by getting dinner a little later than was customary, and he made such a fuss, I became almost angry… my cheek still felt bruised from where he had hit me. Thomas Proudfoot, my husband. There wasn't much to say as to where his feet were concerned, but he had a temper to mach that of an angry bull. Again I looked around. The street was crowded. If any of Thomas' friends saw me… I shuddered. A man brushed against my shoulder. I gasped and drew back, trying to hide my face.

"Ma'am? I am sorry, did I hurt you?"

_What?_ I looked up to find the most handsome face peering at me with an expression of utmost concern. I was flustered. Never had I seen a kinder face.

"N-no. I… you startled me." Quickly I ducked my head and turned away, but a strange jolt ran through me as I did, and my hand flew almost automatically to my stomach. Suddenly my foot caught on my long skirts, and I toppled over- and fell straight into a large chest. Yet the arms that folded around me were not protective, and their grip everything but comforting. And when I looked up, I knew my nightmare had caught up with me.

**Sorry, it's kinda short but I want to know if I should carry on or trash it, so pls R&R (puppy dog face).**


	2. Chapter 2

**Hey! Sorry I took so long to carry on and thanks sooooo much for reviewing!! This chapter will be longer, I promise. **

I could have been dying and he would never have cared. Another blow crashed down on me, my knees buckled and I fell to the floor. The pain, harsh, relentless, coursed though me. My face already had numerous cuts and bruises, but Thomas' wrath never ended. All I wanted to do was give in to the darkness, let it overwhelm me and take me away from this hell.

But I could never abandon my baby, my unborn child. Even if it was Thomas' child. I was its sanctuary, and I would never, as long as my heart kept beating, become the baby's tomb.

"Did you really think that you could just run away? That you could outrun me?" Thomas snarled. "You will never do this again, I'll see to that. Bitch!"

With the last word he drew back his foot and with what felt like all of his strength kicked my abdomen. The pain was excruciating. My legs felt sickly numb.

"No…no…please…no," I whimpered. Please be all right. Please, you're all I have left. Please…

"Get up. Clean this mess, you useless _woman_," he hissed. I could barely move, but I knew it would be worse if I ignored him. Slowly I got onto my hands and knees. I gasped. Blood splattered from my mouth and fell with a small splash into the puddle already on the floor. I wiped the back of my hand across my mouth, removing more blood and spit from my face.

I was too slow for my husband. He grabbed a handful of my long hair and yanked it back with stunning force.

"I said – get – up" the poison in his voice was almost tangible. With every word he pulled my hair, forcing me to my feet. I grabbed the kitchen chair for support and looked at Thomas' shoes. They were dirty and scuffed, despite my efforts to keep them in good condition. I could feel the tears building up inside me. No, I mustn't cry. I have to stay strong. I can't let him have the satisfaction. No matter how cruel Thomas could be, I was determined not to let my fear and pain show. I wasn't some animal he could just control. It would take a lot more than that. But as I moved to fetch a bucket of water and a mop, I suddenly wasn't so sure anymore. I didn't have much more to give. Everything I had left, I decided, I would give my baby.

Our kitchen was small, like the rest of the house. The little blue cupboards lining the walls were peeling. The walls were off-white. We had a tiny corner of a dining room. It consisted only of one square wooden table and two mismatched chairs. What little light shone through the dusty windows always seemed dimmer to me when Thomas was in the house. There were long scratches in the wooden floorboards where the chairs had been dragged and occasional dark patches that held past terrors for me.

I took the huge metal bucket out of one of the cupboards. My shoulders ached when I moved them. The large sink had rusty corners. I would have to make sure Thomas wasn't around when it broke, or he'd blame me again.

The bucket was heavy as I dragged it to the fresh puddle of blood. Probably the cleanest object in the house was the mop, because I used it so often it never got the chance to fester anything disgusting. It stank, though, from all of Thomas' vomit after a night of drinking with those vile friends of his.

As I cleaned I began to sing softly under my breath. Thomas hated any singing, but I loved the sweet sound of voices softly moving in harmony.

I hardly dared to look around, but I sighed with relief when I heard my husband leave the room. Suddenly my eyes stung and something trickled gently down my cheek. I left the tear to fall as it pleased; it reminded me of the gentle brush of Thomas' hand before we got married. He had been a real gentleman once, and I was young and gullible.

My rhythmic movement as I cleaned was comforting. Soon I felt the pain ebbing away, however slowly, and my tense muscles relaxed. After I finished cleaning up the mess, I decided I'd better start making dinner before Thomas had the chance to beat me again.

I took out some meat from the storeroom and began preparing it, srinkling several different herbs evenly over its surface. I was careful not to overdo or underdo anything so that Thomas would't beat me again. My mind wandered to the only peaceful moments in my life: the times when Thomas had either passed out or gone to sleep. I often stayed awake for the sake of keeping myself calm... and for my child, to give her a rest from all the fear I felt. I was convinced that it would be a girl. Hopefully she wouldn't look to much like Thomas- but I would love her no matter what.

After the meat was prepared, I began peeling potatoes and looked for any edible vegetables. So many had gone off a long time ago, and we desperately needed more, but _he _was sure not to let me go anywhere alone any time soon. I found myself thinking about the handsome young man that helped me at the market. I couldn't get the image of his concerned face out of my head. He had been so kind to me. I never met a man like him. Suddenly I paused. Was I actually smiling at the thought of this stranger? _Esme! Pull yourself together, you're married! You shouldn't be thinking about another man, it's being unfaithful!  
_My parents raised me a good catholic girl, another reason I could never leave Thomas.

I sighed as my hands stopped their mechanical movements. Dinner was ready. At that moment I heared loud, roudy voices and the door opening. _Oh no, please, no_, I thought desperately. Thomas was home- I never noticed time when I was cooking- and he had brought his friends along.

**Ha ha! Finally, chapter two has arrived. Soz it took forever but I was having problems with the damned computer ( it's all the PC's fault :(). Please Review and I promise the next chapter will come real quick. Btw, more reviews = happy me = long, great next chaper!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: Quite obviously, I don't own Twilight or any of its characters; I'm just borrowing them for a short while. **

**I hope you enjoy my story!**

"Another beer, and hurry up, you lazy woman!"

I had been enduring these commands for hours. I dragged my feet along the floor as fast as I could lest they hurt me. I was used to the beating; it was my baby I was worried about again. Thomas' presence was unnerving to me and I could swear the child felt my fear. I filled the large mug with more of that foul-smelling drink that turned men into frightening monsters and rushed back to Thomas' oldest friend.

"Here, sir," I said, bowing my head and not looking into his eyes.

The floor swayed under my feet and I had to hold onto the edge of the table to prevent myself from falling over. A sudden, sharp kick made me gasp I surprise. My first thought was that one of the men hit me, but then I realized none of them were paying any attention to me. My hand moved to my swollen belly. Again I felt a strange kick.

"Oh my… Thom-" my first instinct was to share with my husband what I had just felt, but suddenly I stopped. Would he care? Would he want to know? I decided to tell him later, perhaps even in a public place, just to be safe. But I was so excited! My baby just kicked! She was alive. Relief flooded through me. My baby girl was alive. I would be alright.

For the rest of the night, I continued to serve Thomas and his friends, but with new hope. Although I was absolutely fatigued by the time dawn arrived, and my limbs ached from cleaning up my husband's mess while he snored loudly upstairs, I still had a small smile on my face as I crept into bed next to Thomas. Quietly I lay down next to his sleeping form.

"Thomas? Our baby kicked for the first time today."

His heavy breathing answered me. I sighed.

"Just thought you ought to know," I whispered and turned around onto my side, closing my eyes and curling protectively around my belly. A small nudge responded from inside. My smile returned and I drifted peacefully off to sleep.

_The man stepped forward with his hands outstretched.__ A gentle smile played on his full lips while his golden eyes watched me carefully. At first I hesitated to walk towards him because he was a stranger; I didn't even know his name, but the warmth and affection radiating from him was alluring. Warily, I took a step forward, and when his smile became wider and more delighted, I carried on walking without doubt. This man, I was certain, would never harm me - could never harm me. As I reached him I took his hands. My eyes widened when I realized how cold they were, but almost immediately they became warm, as if my touch changed their temperature. The man looked down at me lovingly and slowly wrapped his arms around me, pulling me closer. To be so close to him sent shivers down my spine and gave me goose bumps. But for the first time, I felt absolutely safe. I wanted nothing more than to ask what his name was, but I was afraid that if I spoke, he would vanish. _

_Suddenly, his smile faded and he looked sad, like he was lamenting something. I was scared he would tell me something terrible and started shaking uncontrollably. The shaking persisted until I started feeling ill. Why couldn't I stop? Against my will, I squeezed my eyes shut in an effort to shake off the sickly churning in my stomach, but as soon as I realized that my eyes were closed, I opened them again. Would he still-_

I stared into Thomas' face. I almost gasped with surprise when it was his face and not even an empty space where the beautiful stranger's had been.

"Get up. Make my breakfast. I'm going out today."

He turned to leave our small bedroom, but stopped just outside the doorway, spun around slowly and came back. When his face was mere inches from mine he hissed, "And don't think I won't know if you try to leave again. I don't make the same mistakes twice."

I whimpered to let him know I understood his warning, waited until he left the room and then got up and dressed in my usual long skirt and faded blue blouse. Then I made my way to the kitchen to make his breakfast. I hurried to get on the table and almost tripped several times because I was so tired.  
Relieved when Thomas finally began eating without a complaint, I made my way back to the bedroom to start cleaning up there and making our bed. As I bent over the sheets to straighten them, I felt a sharp pain in my abdomen. Suddenly my fear for the baby was back, but after I gently prodded my stomach I managed to convince myself that it was just the pain from yesterday's beating.

"Come!" was Thomas' only command.

Sighing quietly, I obliged.

"Yes Thomas? Do you need something before you go out?"

He looked at me silently for a few minutes, and I just started to worry when he said," Clean up and then bring me my jacket."  
I was a little surprised at how calm he was today, and I felt a lot better about being around him. So I nodded and picked up his plate, but as I dried it off, I felt the strongest kick yet. Taken completely by surprise, I dropped the plate, which landed with a crash on the floor and splintered into millions of tiny pieces on the floor.

"Aah you stupid, clumsy, pathetic wife! Can you do absolutely nothing? You good-for-nothing - " Thomas was back to his old self, but I didn't even really notice because the pain hadn't stopped and I could see a small patch of dark blood forming on the front of my skirt.

"No, Thomas please, help me, please, the baby, please a mid wife..." I could only gasp the words. I fell to the floor, the pieces of broken plate cutting though my knees, my shaking hands holding on to my belly. The pain was too much, so much. Tears began to roll down my cheeks uncontrollably as I realized that both my and the child's fates now rested solely in Thomas' uncaring hands.

**Whew! Chapter 3 complete and Chapter 4 is coming up! Sorry, I suffer from a near constant writer's block and I have to finish reading this really complicated book for school:( but I suppose that's life... ha ha anyway PLEASE review or I'm gonna cry!**

**PS: it's the little button just underneath this!**


	4. Chapter 4

**Hey! I've made one minute change to Chapter 3 (Thanks BookRose for your advise) and to answer the question asked about what time this played in, I honestly don't know, probably in the 1400's or so but I don't think my writing would be historically accurate anyway lol. I hope you guys enjoy the next chapter, there's a bit more action in it!**

The woman's face emerged from somewhere out of my line of sight. I didn't hear her arrive. The pain was unbearable and all I could do was gasp for air. I tried my best to stay calm but my worry was driving me insane. This wasn't supposed to happen, was it? She only just started kicking, this pain wasn't supposed to be here. Panic started to rise in me and I struggled to control the waves of fear coursing through me. The dark on the edges of my vision were threatening to drown me.

From somewhere above my head came voices. One was the terribly familiar voice of Thomas, the other sounded like another woman. The one bending over me was talking to me, but I barely registered her words. My eyes where rolling back into my head. The pain was beginning to overpower my desperate struggle to stay conscious.

I started to hyperventilate. Another stab of pain across my abdomen made me scream, drawing back the darkness to suddenly let the strange woman's voice burst through.

"…breathe, just breathe, it will be alright. Mrs. Ballyclaire? Can you hear me? It will be fine…"

I tried to respond but my mouth just wouldn't move. Instead I focused my eyes above my head, to where the voices were coming from. I could see Thomas, looking slightly worried for the first time since he'd asked me to marry him, and a plump, dark haired woman. When she noticed that I was looking at her, she bent over me and said, "Mrs. Ballyclaire, I want you to do something for me. You have to choose, I'm afraid, if you live and your child stands a chance of coming to… harm, or whether you stand a chance of dying and the baby has a chance – just a chance – of living. I'm so sor-"

"Save her, please, save her!" I gasped before she could continue. For the amount of red I was only now starting to notice pooling around me, she sounded incredibly calm.

She glanced at my husband, but immediately started to bustle about the kitchen, fetching objects that I would have been scared of on any other day. But not now. Not when my child, the one I had tried to protect from any harm, was in danger. Even if it costs me my life, this child _will_ be safe.

I watched as the midwife and the nurse suddenly turned around as if someone had entered the room. I heard it too: the soft footsteps hurrying into the kitchen. And then I saw him. He moved quickly, murmuring to the nurse and midwife, giving them quiet instructions. He paused only once to take my hand and gently squeeze it. I choked as I gasped – his hands were ice cold.

I tried to find his eyes with mine, but my vision was going black. The last thing I remember hearing was the whisper of voice, perhaps asking me a question, or assuring me of something ridiculous such as "You will be alright…"

The last thing I remember going through my mind, was my baby and whether I would ever see her, or if she would live a prisoner in Thomas' cold home without a mother, without love.

And the last thing I remember feeling, was a strange sense of calm that washed over me when I realized that both of us, my daughter and I, were in the hands of the cold-fingered doctor.


End file.
